


The Things Remembered

by Triddlegrl



Series: Batman Verse [3]
Category: DCU (Comics), Glee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 09:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8051743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triddlegrl/pseuds/Triddlegrl
Summary: The world is ending and its fate lays in the hand of its last surviving heroes. Their one chance at preserving mankind lays with Batman, who has answered the call for justice so many times he is in all ways a man left with nothing to lose.Blaine Anderson lost the man he loved years ago, long before the killing blow, long before the island, long before Her.This is how the righteous pleads.





	The Things Remembered

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion piece and sort of sequal to Forget Me Not. Just a warning it gives away certain elements to that story's planned ending. I don't know when I'll ever be able to finish the main fic, so hopefully this one does as intended and brings this universe a bit of closure.
> 
> *Ivy's Island is a real plot line from the DC universe that I clearly borrowed and adapted for my own purposes. In the comic she went there by choice to try to live out the rest of her life in peace and unfortunately, that sanctuary too is taken away from her when a greedy cooperation doing illegal testing chooses the wrong island to bomb... Poor girl never catches a break. She got her revenge and our Kurt does too with unfortunate results.
> 
> *WARNING FOR MENTION OF CHARACTER DEATH* (it's brief though and not the focus of the story).

Sam said she came from space. Not from Krypton but from someplace else, some distant universe where man had devoured itself and left behind only the Conscious who had passed terrible judgment on all that had come before them.

It was decided. Man must be enlightened. All those who refused must perish.

She came to this earth, our here and now, to enlighten us but earth was not undefended. It's protectors: a group of heroes who stood for justice and the freedoms of all people.

The Batman fought among them, ready to sacrifice his life in battle with Her, her with no name (she who was Conscious) and when they were down to their last with one last desperate chance, he decided it was him who should face Her.

He of all of them had nothing left to lose.

Still they warned him.

“For the poison to work she has to touch your mind. When she does she will be bound to you and though you may think your own mind is where you have the most control do not underestimate Her. She will try to bargain with you. From Her you can hide nothing. She will know your every thought and every fear. She will find what makes you tremble, what makes you _low_  and she will not have to break you. You will break yourself.”

But Blaine was not afraid because he had already done that and survived it.

And now he was tired and so very ready to die.

He met Her on the day the sky rained red.

*1*

Blaine crawled through the rubble.

Nearby someone groaned but the sound was low, already fading. A moment more and it was silent again but for the howling of the wind as it whipped ash about like snow.

He took a shuddered breath, blood bubbling in his lungs.

He stretched his arm out, reaching, fingers grappling with the heel of a warm leather boot.

It was Quinn, lying broken in the rubble, face still twisted up in a snarl of disgust, eyes cold and sightless.

Soft footsteps approached, feet lazily kicking brick and stone out of their path, and the hem of a long white robe appeared in front of Blaine’s clouded vision as the figure paused in front of Quinn’s fallen form.

“They called her Wonder Woman.” She contemplated sadly. “But there is no Wonder left in man. You are killers all.”

Blaine laughed wetly, the sound abruptly turning into a cough as his chest constricted and spasmed around the blood filling his lungs. He could not see her, did not have the strength enough to raise his head, but he knew when she turned to look at him. He could feel her eyes.

“You laugh like a child Blaine Anderson.” Her feet turned to face him and she knelt, tilting her head until her face filled his vision. “But you know it is true.”

“You can’t talk.” Blaine mumbled around his slow tongue, grinning ghoulishly at Her.

She destroyed worlds.

She blinked, appearing unbothered by the accusation in his eyes.

“You are happy to be dying.” She read his mind as easily as one would the pages of a book. She couldn't resist and that was what doomed her. Curiosity, meet cat.

“Ah." She breathed. "So we are to die together. Clever, but ultimately flawed. A plan concocted by the human mind will always be flawed because _you_  are flawed. Your vengeance, your crusade… it was all for nothing Blaine.”

He was dying but Blaine did not mind that. He’d wanted death for a long time. Whatever she said, she was wrong. He’d done exactly what he’d been sent out to do and in a moment now it would all be over, and She would be trapped with him.

Its heroes would all be dead, but Earth would go on.

There would be other heroes.

“You call yourself heroes but how can you be?” She sighed sadly. “Here at the end let there be only truth between us. Would you give me your world Blaine Anderson, or are you truly righteous?”

 _[Fuck you]_   He thought. He had no more breath to speak.

 _How pleads the righteous?_  Her voice whispered inside his mind, cold and insidious.

Her fingers reached out to touch his brow, fingers dry and hot where the pads touched skin. A pulse swept through him, and though it was intensely painful he could not scream.

**********************

[Do your worst.]

You think you have nothing to lose. You are wrong. 

**********************

“Stop! Kurt you have to stop!” Blaine yelled over the roar of the helicopters propellers. The terrified pilot reached toward him, the fingers of one hand grasping at empty air as the thick dark vine wrapped around his neck pulled tighter.

Kurt turned toward Blaine, the wind from the choppers blades tossing the vibrant wisps of his hair like they were live wires. He looked impenetrable standing there amidst the flames and smoke, with the bleeding sunset behind him as he held the mercenary tightly bound, pressing his prey back into the door of the chopper.

He did not speak. The green flush creeping over his pale skin said it all.

“Kurt please,” Blaine pleaded hoarsely, struggling vainly against the plants that bound him. “Don’t do this. It’s not their fault.”

They hadn’t known the island was inhabited. Nobody had known. Blaine had made sure of it. Seclusion was the only way Blaine could keep Kurt safe and the world safe from Kurt. It was supposed to be his haven... but now, Blaine’s last gift to him was reduced to smoke and ash.

“You aren’t a killer.” Blaine pleaded in vain. He knew the look in Kurt’s eyes – their luminescent jade coupled with the electric magnetic pull he felt crawling against his skin – knew it’s power. Blaine was as helpless against it as any other insect drawn to the sweetness of a flowers center.

And when it came to Ivy, they were all indeed insects.

“Oh Darling,” Kurt sighed softly, clicking his tongue in chastisement. “We both know that isn’t true.”

Blaine did know, he realized as he watched Kurt lean down to press a tender kiss upon the mercenary’s lips.

He’d just hoped.

But there was no more hope now. There was a throwing knife on his utility belt. His aim had always been true.

 

*************************

Do you regret it?

[Every day]

*************************

 

Blaine breathed in deeply as he stepped away from the jet, his eyes widening as he took in the colors of the island.

When he’d left Ivy here there hadn’t been much life on it, but now it was teaming with it.

The trees towered. The air smelled heavy and sweet. Birds called to one another loudly to the back drop of gently lapping waves.

The waves were white, covered as they were in lilies like something fresh out of a story book or a child’s imagination. The gently bobbing flowers seemed unbothered by the ocean water, but even that seemed perfected now. The water was so clear a blue and smelled so _clean_  that Blaine was not sure that if he knelt to drink from it he wouldn’t find it sweet as a mountain spring.

The ground he stood on couldn’t have been holier if he’d stepped right into the Garden of Eden. And surrounded by such vibrant beauty It was hard not to believe he hadn’t.

“Blaine?” A voice called over the sound of the waves and Blaine turned.

A figure stood above him alone on the rocks. With the sun at his back like that it made his hair rival the sunset for shades of gold and red. Blaine’s heart thudded hard at the sight of him.

He’d feared what would happen if he ever came back here, but at the first sight of Kurt those fears fell away.

He was in all ways still the most beautiful thing in Blaine’s world.

The minutes reaching him were a haze in Blaine’s mind: unimportant. There was distance between them and then there wasn’t and when Blaine was standing before him he found he could not get a breath into his lungs.

“Batman.” Kurt stated simply, and Blaine could not tell whether this pleased him or if the love they’d once shared for one another had finally died, withered when Blaine brought Kurt to the island – a place they both knew amounted too little more than a gilded cage - and then walked away from him.

“Blaine…” Blaine insisted with a rasp, as his grief shuddered through him, finally too much to carry on his own.

He couldn’t be Batman anymore when his heart and his mind were always here. Kurt had consumed him.

It had always been a choice between life and death.

“You always keep me waiting.” Kurt’s lips spread into a slow easy smile, at odds with the tears welling in his eyes. “Are you mine again?”

And Blaine reached for him and kissed him for all that he was worth, without any fear of death because he’d already tasted it.

It was life without Kurt.

_********************************_

_You loved him._

_[It won’t work.]_

_*******************************_

 

Blaine thought about the island whenever it rained. He thought about the cool blue waters and the salt on the air, and he imagined that by now it was full of green and the sweet smell of flowers.

He’d not been back since he’d left Ivy there. Marooned him.

But he knew, that if he were to fly over that small plot of land there would be a jungle there now. As wild as the island’s sole inhabitant.

He wondered what flowers Kurt had planted and if he would ever see them, if Kurt would ever truly be Kurt enough again to welcome him back after such a betrayal.

Blaine had promised Ivy safety: a place he could make into a paradise that no one but them would ever touch. A place for the two of them. He’d lured the man he loved there and then he’d left him.

He’d always known he wouldn’t stay.

The world would always need Batman.

He thought about that Island whenever it rained, whenever he saw flowers in the windows of shops or gracing the tables of restaurants, whenever a song came on the radio, whenever he closed his eyes at night… every other thought.

 

_*****************************_

_He was a killer._

_[He was Kurt.]_

_******************************_

 

Kurt lay sleeping in the copilot’s chair, the jet cutting smoothly through the clouds as they flew over miles and miles of blue ocean.

His skin was pale, mottled with bruises and cuts. Trophies from their battle with Madame Joker.

The sight of them made Blaine’s chest burn, his hands clenching around the steering control.

Hard to imagine that only hours ago they’d been locked in a fight to the death as the lab had burned around them, seconds away from burying them both in a crumbling pile of brick and twisted metal.

The memory of calling to Kurt over the roar of the flames, throat raw and bleeding, is too prominent in his mind for Blaine’s comfort.

Between every heartbeat he could hear her laughter, that damning hysterical laughter as she fell to what he could only presume was her death – laughing not at her peril but at him, still reaching for Kurt at the end. Still desperate to believe that somewhere inside the monster that was Poison Ivy, Kurt Hummel yet lived.

_Ivy the building is coming down!” Blaine shouts over the roar of flames, cutting through the withering and snapping vines doing everything they can to impede his progress. Even consumed by fire, in the throes of death, the plants will follow Ivy’s will. Their devotion is singular. He is God: giver and taker of life._

_“LET IT! I still have time to release the spores.” Kurt’s focus is also singular and for once it is not on the plants (either those dying underneath Blaine’s blades or consumed by fire) but on the console in front of him. His hands are frantically entering in codes and equations, his green eyes bright with the desperation of a man whose sanity has left him. There is nothing but his task._

_“You know I can’t let you do that.” Blaine says. His throat is thick with unbroken sobs. Thick with the knowledge of what he must do._

_Kurt pauses as Blaine cuts through the last of the veins. He turns to him with a peculiar sort of calmness._

_“Darling we were always going to die together.” He smiles. “I did picture less fire.”_

_“Kurt please…” Blaine pleads and it’s the wrong thing. Ivy’s face twists up in disgusted rage._

_“Kurt.” He spits like the name is dirty. “Of course you want Kurt. Sweet malleable pathetic Kurt, living for a glance or a kind word from you. Happy to swallow your bullshit and suckle that poison you call love Anderson. Ha! You think I don’t know about the island?”_

_Shock floods through Blaine sharp and cold. The island is his last resort. A desperate man’s attempt at preserving what he loves even if it damns his soul._

_Ivy’s sneer melts away into something oddly vulnerable as his gaze goes distant, his voice pitched low as he murmurs as if to himself._

_“I get the joke now. She said I would.” He giggles to himself somewhat hysterically. ‘I only wanted you Blaine. You never needed to be a hero, or to right the wrongs of the world. Not for me. You just needed to be that boy I fell in love with in the garden. But you killed him. Not your parent’s murderers. You did. You strangled the life right out of him and then you put your hands around my neck and squeezed, year after year. And I let you.”_

_And when he looks at Blaine they both hear the ring of truth and Blaine... the truth rips through him surer than bullets. Blaine’s legs crumple beneath him and his knees hit the skywalk hard._

_Because even now Kurt is walking toward him, as beautiful as any angel of death, kneeling before him to grasp Blaine’s face within his sure hands and rip the mask away until there are no shields left._

_“But that’s not the joke.” He says, voice thick as tears begin to slide down his pale cheeks. “The joke is on me. Because I love you. Even at your most terrible… and I’d forgive you, my beautiful Blaine, if you gave me what you promised me that day in the garden. Take me to your island and stay with me. Love me...despite everything. Love me finally.”_

Blaine shuddered, a bought of turbulence shaking him out of the memory. In the seat beside him Kurt stirred and Blaine reached one handed to touch the soft curve of his cheek, his breath hitching in his chest.

He loved him. Too deeply to bear sometimes.

He’s Batman and Kurt is Ivy and he still loves him beyond all ability to reason.

He’d always assumed darkly that Kurt Hummel would be the death of him one day.

The joke is…

*************************

_[Stop]_

_You betrayed him._

*************************

 

_I swear that the evidence that I shall give, shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God._

“I need you to answer the question at risk of perjury Mr. Anderson! Was the defendant acting in self-defense when he decided to violently end the life of Jason Woodrue?”

“No.”

****************************

[Stop it!]

Over and over again.

[He was sick.]

He was Kurt. 

****************************

 

Kurt stepped in front of Jason, his eyes glittering with cold green fire. He seemed to drink up the fear permuting off of Woodrue as he stood waiting, a playful sort of grin tugging at his lips.

“It worked.” Jason gaped at him. “My god it worked!”

“So it seems.” Kurt lowered his lashes flirtatiously, peeking up through them as he asked, “Am I everything that you wanted, Jason?”

 

 

************************

[STOP IT. Please stop.]

You know the price.

************************

 

When Blaine opened his eyes his head felt groggy and stuffed…

He couldn’t take his eyes off of Kurt, though that wasn’t exactly new. Kurt had always snared Blaine’s attention this way, gotten under his skin and forced him to pay attention.

“So what am I supposed to think about all of this Blaine?” Kurt asked, looking up from the crumpled cloth in his palm. “I’d prefer the truth.”

Blaine wanted to kiss Kurt. He knew he shouldn’t (couldn’t _ever_ ) give in to his base desires that way. Not if still wanted to move forward with his plans, not if he didn’t wish to put himself and Kurt in danger.

But he wondered sometimes… he wondered what would have happened if he and his parents had left the theater earlier or later that night… if they’d survived and life had gone on as normal, would he have begged his father to take him back to the gardens? In that reality maybe…

 

**********************

[Please]

You have to pay the price.

[please]

We will still come.

[PLEASE]

So pleads the righteous.

***********************

 

~*~June 22nd Blaine is 8 years old~*~

 

 

Blaine Anderson jerked up, screaming into the dark.

For a moment he did not know where he was, his head filled with strange visions (a woman with blue skin and strange eyes wearing funny clothes) but in the way of dreams the images faded in his mind with every second that ticked, but the fear lingered. Its bitter taste still flooded his mouth and his heart still pounded in his head like a jack rabbit.

A moment later he heard rushing footsteps. He knew it was his mother even before the door opened and she flicked the switch, flooding his bedroom with light.

“Blaine, darling?” she entreated as she came to sit upon the edge of his bed. Blaine launched himself into her arms, shaking and shivering, the remnants of the dream still haunting his mind in strange images.

“Oh honey, did you have nightmare?” She asked, softly stroking his back. Blaine nodded wordlessly, clutching her tighter. She lifted his face and pressed one palm to his sweating brow and clucked her tongue in concern. “Sweetheart you’re burning up.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Blaine mumbled tearfully into her neck, unsure why he was filled with such a heavy sense of shame and despair, suddenly overcome with dizziness and a strange weakness in his limbs. “She’s coming.”

“Who’s coming darling?” Miranda asked, concerned and Blaine’s brow furrowed deeply as he struggled to remember. He didn’t know… had there been a woman in his dream? He didn’t remember.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled once more and his mother lay down with him, holding him tight until the memory of the frightening dream had faded to nothing and he was eased back into sleep in the comfort of her arms.

 

~*~

 

Blaine was miserably sick for days. This meant that he was confined to his bed (which he hated) even when the fever finally broke and he began to feel better. He wasn’t allowed any visitors either, even when his best friend Wes came to bring him a get well card.

His mother’s birthday arrived and with it came an unexpected reprieve. Blaine was still not well enough to go out and his mother did not wish to leave him alone in the house when he was sick, even if their butler Luis was going to be there.

She wouldn’t have any fun at the theater she insisted, worrying about her little boy all night, and Father agreed. They’d have a nice dinner at home and go out another night.

But Father had been working on a very special surprise for Mother which couldn’t wait. Mother had always loved flowers. She and Father gave a lot of money to different organizations and companies that helped the planet, and her favorite place in all of Lima City was the Lima City Botanical Gardens and Research Center.

Father had asked the scientists there to create Blaine’s mother a flower all her own, and they were being planted in the park where everyone in the city could enjoy them. Father had planned to take the family on a stroll after the show and surprise her but his plans quickly had to change now that they weren’t going.

Some of Mother’s friends had planned a birthday luncheon for her and at first she didn’t want to go to that either but Blaine was feeling much better than he had been and whining to be allowed to get out of bed, and to his delight his Father sided with him.

“Go on Miranda, the boy will be fine. I’ll be here and Blaine can help me with our special project.”

Father had winked at him and Blaine had been very excited after so many days confined to his bed.

Not long after kisses and hugs had been traded and his mother finally shooed out the door, a woman in a van from the Gardens had arrived with a little boy not much younger than him in tow.

Father said she was a doctor like him only she worked with plants. Blaine hadn’t known that plants could need doctors but he thought it was a pretty neat.

He welcomed them inside and Blaine couldn’t help but stare. Mother said staring was impolite, but with the wind kicking up and tugging on the tiny unnoticed leaf stuck in her hair Blaine was sure he had never met anybody quite like Dr. Nora Hummel.

“Thomas so good to see you,” she greeted father with a handshake and a kiss on both cheeks, grinning broadly. She was strange. Mother’s hair was never out of place, but Blaine thought that he liked Nora even if she looked out of place in their stately front entrance with her messy hair and stained lab coat.

That and he liked the way Father said her name, like it might be something musical.

“Nora, thanks for coming on such short notice.” Father said, apologetically. “Were you able to bring them?”

“I was. The trip doesn’t seem to have harmed them any and they should adjust well to the new soil bed. I’ve got instructions for your gardener.”

Father’s eyes flicked to the little boy she’d brought with her and Dr. Nora placed a hand on his head with a tender smile. “This here is my son, Kurt. He’s my best assistant.”

If Blaine thought that Dr. Nora was strange looking, then Kurt was even stranger. Maybe dressing funny was just something they did in Kurt’s family?

Blaine went to private school where all of the boys and girls dressed the same and he didn’t have many friends besides Wes and this other boy David. But even then, he knew what you were supposed to dress like out in public. It was summertime and it was hot but even so, Mother always made sure Blaine wore nice trousers and a clean white shirt when he went out. This boy didn’t know how to dress himself at all.

Kurt’s shorts did nothing to hide the brightly colored socks sticking out of a shiny pair of black and white converse on his feet. He wore a matching black and white bow tie around his neck and under his red suspenders he wore a white shirt like Blaine’s. Only he’d folded up the cuffs and stuck a Power Rangers sticker on his shoulder and there was also a big glossy bumblebee pinned to one of his suspender straps.

He was pale like his mother with wispy brown hair that he’d combed back from bright blue eyes; eyes that were staring curiously back at Blaine.

Because Blaine’s parents had instilled manners in him and he hadn’t seen somebody else his age in _forever_  Blaine stepped forward and offered his hand for a shake with an eager smile.

“Hi. My name’s Blaine.”

Kurt’s mouth fell open slightly and he stared at Blaine’s offered hand - as if he’d never been offered a handshake before and didn’t quite know what to do with it.

Blaine fidgeted, beginning to frown. He felt kind of silly and wondered for a moment if no one had ever taught this boy how to shake hands.

Then, with a smile of delight widening his mouth, Kurt giggled under his breath and took Blaine’s hand in his.

“Are you going to help us plant my Mother’s flower?” Blaine asked eagerly and Kurt nodded.

“Blaine why don’t you and Kurt go pick out a good spot?” Father suggested in that tone of voice that Blaine knew meant he had ‘grown up’ things to do and Blaine should go play quietly somewhere.

Glad that Kurt was here so that he didn’t have to be bored anymore all by himself Blaine nodded and grabbed the other boy’s hand.

“Come on. I’ll show you the garden. My mother planted everything – well the gardener did some of it too, but she picked it all out and helps him sometimes. She usually doesn’t like dirt – so don’t get any on your shoes or she’ll have a cow – but she says the flowers are worth it.” Blaine finished with a roll of his eyes as he tugged Kurt along, because even though he was pretty sure his Mother was the best person in the world, he was also pretty sure she got way too bothered about muddy floors.

They were giggling together as they pushed open the glass doors leading into the back garden and Blaine, who hadn’t been outside in what felt like _years_  all but skipped outside, inhaling deep lungfuls of summer air as he threw his arms wide.

“Well here it is! Where do you think we should plant her flowers? There’s already so many I don’t know if they’ll fit!”

When Kurt didn’t answer immediately Blaine turned with a frown to find the boy standing still head turning slowly as his eyes roved over the trees and flower beds, eyes wide with wonder.

“Wow.” he breathed softly and Blaine felt a strange surge of pride even though he hadn’t done anything.

Kurt’s eyes went impossibly wider as he spotted something and Blaine watched as he darted off the steps, pulled as if by gravity over to the vines hanging off the arbor. The feet were surrounded in bright blue flowers that Blaine struggled to remember not to trample when he played out here.

“Lonicera!” Kurt exclaimed reaching with gentle hands for a bright red bloom hanging from the vines, standing up on his tip toes to press his nose in close and inhale.

He had long eyelashes Blaine noticed and they dusted his cheeks when he closed his eyes.

When they opened again and saw Blaine’s confused expression, he laughed and explained, “you can call them honeysuckle. It’s easier.”

“What are the blue ones called?” Blaine asked, just to see if Kurt knew, because he’d never met anyone besides their gardener who knew so much about plants.

“Myosotis” Kurt answered matter of factually, a soft pink flooding his cheeks. “People call them Forget-me-not’s. Aren’t they beautiful? My favorite forget-me-nots are Anchusa Capensis, the Blue Angel… only, technically they aren’t really forget-me-nots. They’re a whole different genus, but people don’t care because they look almost the same, except they are a much deeper blue. The deepest blue you’ve ever seen. They’re my second favorite flower in the whole world.”

Second favorite? Blaine thought that was a strange thing to say but he liked Kurt’s strangeness. Liked his bright eyes and his shy laugh. He was suddenly dying to know which were Kurt’s first favorite so he asked and Kurt looked down shyly, biting his lip.

When he looked up Blaine thought his eyes were very blue. Bluer than the forget-me-nots at their feet. Maybe Kurt’s Blue Angels looked like that. If they did, Blaine thought, then he could see why they could be somebody’s favorite.

“Adenium Obesum Miranda,” Kurt replied, his voice barely above a whisper. Blaine smiled, even though he had no idea what that was. His mother’s name was Miranda… And as if sensing his thoughts Kurt bit his lip again and with another shy little smile admitted, “I helped my mom make it for your mother.”

Something funny happened to Blaine’s chest then. It felt like it was swelling, filling up with so much glad, so much happy, he couldn’t do anything but stand there and smile as his heart began to beat heavy like a drum.

“Cool.” Blaine breathed out with awe. “So do you work at the plant lab too?” He’d never known anybody as cool as Kurt, and thought it would be a dream come true getting to work in a place that could do something like make flowers out of nothing.

“Blaine, I’m seven.” Kurt gave him a look that made Blaine feel kind of stupid for asking but then he giggled again and it made Blaine feel better. “Of course I don’t work there. One day though, one day I’m going to be a botanist just like my mom.”  
  
“Cool,” Blaine replied again, because it really was the coolest thing ever. “I’m going to be a surgeon, just like my dad, but I think being a botanist like you and your mom would be much cooler.”

“Being a doctor doesn’t sound so bad. Is your dad good?”

“Uh huh. He’s the best doctor in the country, maybe the whole world even. He goes out of the country sometimes to perform special surgeries and stuff because he’s the best.”

“My mom said he donated the money that helped make the Gardens. That’s why we made him a special flower. They’re a great birthday present. He must really love your mother.”

“Of course he loves her. What else would he do, they’re married aren’t they?!” Blaine asked indignantly. He was offended that Kurt would assume anything else of his parents.

Father and mother loved him and they loved each other no matter what, that was just the way it was.

“Not all married people love each other,” Kurt replied sagely, tilting his nose up slightly in a way that made him seem even taller than he already was.

Blaine wasn’t going to back down though.

“Don’t your mother and father love each other?” He asked, crossing his arms and Kurt put his arms on his hips and scowled.

His eyes didn’t look so blue now... maybe green or grey, Blaine couldn’t tell for sure but it was amazing to him, that someone could have eyes that changed with their mood.

“Of course they do, but that doesn’t mean all married people do,” Kurt was saying and Blaine's scowl deepened.

“Well why not?! Why’d they get married then if they didn’t love each other?”

“Well they love each other at first, and then they just… I don’t know… one of them does something bad and then they just don’t anymore. Haven’t you ever heard of divorce?”

The idea that his mother and his father could one day just not love each other, or not love him for that matter was just too much for Blaine to really understand. He knew a couple of kids in his class whose parents were divorced but to him it was just a word.

“Of course I have. I just think it’s dumb. If you love someone you love them and that’s that.”

“Oh really?” Kurt asked one of his eyebrows arching high. “Even if they did something that was _really_  bad? Even if all they did was make you cry?”

Blaine wasn’t so sure anymore, but he wasn’t about to tell Kurt that.

He didn’t know what kind of bad things a person could do to make someone stop loving them. Blaine did bad things sometimes. Sometimes he made mother and father really mad at him and once he even broke Mother’s favorite string of pearls and she cried, but no matter what they always loved him.

And sometimes… sometimes Blaine woke up in the middle of the night frightened and alone, plagued by the sense that he’d done something terribly wrong… he was so _sorry_ so terribly ashamed, so worried that his parents would take one look at him and see that he wasn’t their good little boy and decide they didn’t want him anymore.

But they never did. That was the way it was supposed to be.

“Even then.” Blaine answered with certainty, brow furrowed deeply in thought. “Kurt, if I married somebody, I’d marry somebody like your mom because she’s pretty and smart and super nice… and I’d love her forever no matter what!”

“Well you can’t love my mom!” Kurt insisted with an injured cry, poking at Blaine’s chest. “She’s my mom. You have to love someone our age, someone who isn’t perfect, or it doesn’t count.”

“Okay okay, don’t poke!” Blaine relented, though he didn’t really want to. It was important somehow that he make Kurt understand. It felt like the most important thing he’d ever do like he wouldn’t be able to take another breath until Kurt <i>saw</i>.

His chest felt tight again… like there was something inside fighting its way up and it was scary.

Maybe he could. Blaine didn’t know if you could marry a boy, maybe it wasn’t something people did and it didn’t count either.

“Do boys count?” He asked breathlessly, and Kurt’s finger curled as he brought it up to his mouth to bite the knuckle. He ducked his head, but Blaine could still see the way his cheeks flushed.

His stomach start squirming, like he had butterflies flapping around in there.

“Some boys marry boys don’t they?” he pleaded.

“Yes.” Kurt answered quietly, smiling shyly down at him. “Some of them do.”

“I’m going to marry you Kurt, when we’re big.” Blaine decided. “And no matter what happens. I’m still going to love you.”

Each word was a relief, a quiet bit of clarity… his truth. Blaine knew it with every small inch of him and he smiled as the tension bled out of him. There was no more need to fret or worry.

“Really?” Kurt asked in wonder. “Because…I’d like that.”

“Really.” Blaine nodded eagerly because he’d really like it too.

“Do you promise? Don’t promise if you don’t mean it.” Kurt’s eyes had gotten intense in a way that made Blaine go still inside, kind of scared and exhilarated all at once.

“Kurt I promise.” He swore.

“Good.” Kurt replied, something very final about the way he said it. The pale boy bit his lip, staring at Blaine hopefully as though, if he wished it hard enough, they would suddenly be grown up and sure of what was supposed to come next.

But they weren’t and Blaine was okay with that. There was a lot about being grownups that frightened him still – it was too big – and he did not like to dwell too much on what it might be like. It reminded him too much of the taste of fear in his mouth whenever he woke up from those strange dreams.

Something was coming and he didn’t know what.

But now, there was Kurt. Kurt was here and he wasn’t lost anymore. Maybe it was Kurt all along that he’d been waiting for.

Now, being big also meant that one day he’d marry Kurt and they’d move into Blaine’s house and Kurt would take care of the garden and Blaine would be a doctor who saved people’s lives; and whatever else came… well, it didn’t frighten him as much anymore.

So Blaine, very decided on the matter, grabbed Kurt by both cheeks with a determined set to his jaw and pressed his mouth against Kurt’s.

He’d seen his parents kiss loads of times so he knew this was how it worked, but it was strange mashing his face against another person. He didn’t really _get_  it, but Kurt’s eyelashes brushing against his cheeks kinda tickled. That was okay. Sorta nice.

When Blaine couldn’t breathe anymore he let Kurt go and Kurt just stood there, mouth falling open slightly and blinking in shock.

“You k-kissed me.” The other boy stuttered. “Why?”

Blaine shrugged.

“Because I promised and we don’t go to the same school. I don’t want you to forget me.”

People didn’t forget their first kiss. Blaine didn’t know how he knew that but he did.

Kurt stared at him for a long moment, something small and hopeful in his eyes, and when Blaine didn’t say anything else or try and take it back a slow sweet smile spread on his face and he ducked his head once more.  
  
"I won't forget you Blaine."

Good, Blaine thought.

And it was.

 

 ~*~ Six Years Later: In Kurt’s 13th year ~*~

 

 

Ever since he was very small the greenhouse had been Kurt Hummel’s favorite place to be. Which was a good thing, because it was also his mother’s favorite place to be and Nora Hummel had never let either pregnancy or a toddler under foot deter her from her work.

They were a family of modest means and sitters were expensive and a mechanic’s shop was even less suitable for a small child than a laboratory. At least with Mom Kurt could play in the Gardens and even help out. And not the Kurt hated machines or disliked the times he got roped into helping his dad out at the shop, but when it came to the Gardens Kurt was in every way his mother’s son.

The Botanical Garden was not just a workplace. Anybody that knew them could tell that it was a piece of who they were, as much in the blood as water. People said that Nora Hummel had a gift, that she possessed an almost supernatural affinity for plant life.

When Kurt was five-years-old kneeling beside her in the dirt while they studied the damage caused by a previously unclassified genus of mite she’d shared her secret.

_“They’re alive Kurt, and just like you do they respond to love: your emotions, your touches, your rhythm, your sound… the water you bring and the sunlight you shine on them. You can’t think of them as just things. You want get somebody’s measure real quick? Pay attention to how they treat the earth around them. You’ll see.”_

Which was why at thirteen years old Kurt Hummel always put his classmates and everyone new he met through ‘The Test’.

 **MJones:**  You busy?

Kurt arched a brow as he stared down at the text and quickly thumbed out a reply.

 **Kurt Hummel:** Depends on why you’re asking.

Kurt didn’t have a lot of close friends, and not because he was shy exactly, or because he was anti-social. Blaine Anderson had been his best friend since he was seven years old and the thing about that was Blaine’s father was the Thomas Anderson, of _Anderson Enterprises_ , which had been the leader in medical research and pharmaceuticals since Blaine’s grandfather had started the company. The family still lived right here in Lima City instead of moving to some place exotic like Paris or fashionable like New York.

The world over Anderson Enterprises was a big name but here in Lima City the Anderson’s themselves were like gods. _Everybody_  wanted a piece of the local billionaires and the thing about that was, as soon as they found out you had a door to them, they wanted a piece of you too.

Vultures.

When he was eight a photographer had snapped a picture of Blaine and him at the zoo before the Anderson’s security chased him off. Not long after the picture had printed reporters had started calling his parents wanting to know his connection with the Andersons. His dad had told them to quit bothering them but information about the family was easy to dig up because they’d never had to hide anything before.

The public’s fascination with Blaine’s family was strange and frustrating at times but Kurt didn’t mind it so much. It was just a part of Blaine’s life and even if it was something Blaine liked to shrug off (because _rich kid_  problems) Kurt saw how it weighed on him.

The test was as much about protecting Blaine as it was about protecting himself, because the last thing he needed was some lame-brained opportunistic douchebag getting close enough to Blaine to hurt him just because they’d thought they could use Kurt to hurt him.

No dice.

 **MJones:**  What’s with the attitude? You busy or not.

 **Kurt Hummel:** Working at the gardens today. Why?

 **MJones:** Oh. Wanted to know if you wanted to go to the mall with me and my bro. We could get you some men's sweaters.

 **Kurt Hummel:**  I told you fashion has no gender.

 **MJones:**  Yeah well it’s having a sale at Clares. I noticed you like pins. That rhino one you wore last week is pretty cool. I want to get something like it.

 **Kurt Hummel:**  Some other time I guess.

 **MJones:** *Sad face* okay. What do you do at the greenhouse?

 **Kurt Hummel:**  Mom’s got to take it easier now, so anything she can legally get away with letting me. And if I told you the rest I’d have to kill you.

 **MJones:** HAHA. Sounds fun.

 **Kurt Hummel:**  It’s hard work actually. Lots of sweat and dirt. You ever been?

 **MJones:** Not since the third grade field trip.

 **Kurt Hummel:**  You feel like pitching in? If you don’t want to get dirty I understand.

 

~*~ One Year Later: In Blaine’s 15th year ~*~ 

 

Blaine loved to run.

It wasn’t always easy being the son of a millionaire. The simple fact of the matter was that Blaine had been in the public eye since he was born. He was the heir to a massive fortune and the son of influential people: every toe stepped out of line, every bad grade or child snubbed from a birthday party effected his parent’s business.

And while Blaine’s father was not the business shark his uncle Philip was, well that’s why Dad kept him around. Dad always said Uncle Phil was the brains of the operations even if the Andersons were the heart.

And Blaine totally got that but it was tough feeling like he was living in a fish bowl. Every move he made was watched and it made something as simple as asking someone out to the movies incredibly difficult when you were worried about it being splashed all over the gossip rags.

Yeah, yeah yeah, ‘rich kid’ problems, but the pressure on Blaine’s shoulders to always be the best and never make waves could be real... well _shitty_.

That was why he loved the track.

“Look alive out there Anderson. This ain’t a stroll in the park!” Coach Valone hollered from the side lines.

Blaine cleared his head of his many thoughts to flash the tall black man a big toothy grin as he and the rest of the team passed him.

“Sorry coach,” he called back over his shoulder as he quickened his pace. Coach Valone blew the whistle signaling that this was to be their final lap, and Blaine’s heart leaped in his chest. This part he loved.

As Blaine came alongside him Jeff Sterling spared him a quick glance but kept his focus on his breathing and the track ahead of them.

Blaine tried to do the same but he couldn’t help turning his head to glance at the stands, where a lone teenage boy was sitting, a notebook open in his lap, the wind threatening the stylized swoop of his hair.

The boy must have felt Blaine’s stare because he looked up and even though it was crazy over this distance Blaine swore he could see the smile reach his eyes as he waved.

Blaine turned back to the track, suddenly eager to win. He loved this part of the run, where it became not just exercise but a _race_.

He loved the blood coursing hard through his veins, his muscles stretching and burning with strain, sweat leaving a bitter taste on his lips.

Because in moments like this everything was so physical, so exhilarating, he felt as if he’d take flight from one step to the next.

Blaine Anderson was  _alive_ , body thrumming with adrenaline- and an unexplored something else- as his eyes were drawn back to the boy in the stands.

Something pulled in his belly, low and hot.

Next to him Jeff huffed and Blaine swallowed hard, meeting his friend’s eye with worry. Had he seen? Did he know?

Blaine could feel his face flushing and a wrong step had him stumbling. Thankfully he managed to correct himself before he went tumbling to the ground and took half the team with him.

The other boy grinned, a spark of challenge in his eyes, and Blaine watched as Jeff winked and then took off like a rocket, gunning to overtake Wes in the lead.

So it was like that was it?

Blaine couldn’t fight back his smile as he ran to try and overtake him.

Yeah, he still didn’t know if he’d ever get up the nerve to ask Kurt out (for real, not like how when they were kids) or how his dad was going to take that, but it didn’t really matter when he was running. 

~*~

 

“Alright boys! Stretch it out.” Valone shouted over the noise, letting the whistle drop from his lips and the crowd of boys surrounding Blaine, tousling his hair and shoving playfully (and not so playfully) at his shoulders as they traded quips and smack talk.

“Glad to see you woke up out there, Anderson” Valone said and Blaine called out a thank you even as David elbowed him in the ribs.

“I only let you win because _Kurt’s_  here” he teased, nodding meaningfully towards the stands.

“Yeah he came all the way out here to watch,” Jeff laughed through his gasps for breath. “Figured it was bad taste to make you eat my dust.”

Blaine rolled his eyes, glad that he could blame the red in his cheeks on the run. Probably.

“You’re just jealous you don’t have my skills.”

“Uh huh. Any chance of you, I don’t know, growing a set of balls and finally asking Kurt out?”

Blaine’s face flushed hot. He was sure he was so dark a red only imminent self-combustion would explain it because, yeah.

“W-what? Wait…. I’m not-” he began to stammer and a chorus of groans rose up from his friends.

“Gay?” Nick interjected, arching his brows as he sipped from his water bottle. “And in love with Kurt? _Blaine_  man get real. First, if that dopey ass look you get on your face every time he’s around didn’t tell us, the fact that he comes to all your meets _and_  your practices would. The guy doesn’t trek all the way up here to watch a bunch of guys sweat. Though – Kurt’s like, openly gay. So maybe he does.”

“Okay first off that’s offensive as fuck,” Blaine growled in irritation. “And secondly, I’m not in love with –”

“Blaine.” Wes groaned his name so long and loud that Blaine snapped his mouth shut. “I’ve known you since we were kids. Do you know how many times you forced me to play minister for you guys, or doctor when one of his diapered stuffed animals had the sniffles and your ‘wife’ was worried the baby had the chicken pox?”

“Does Kurt know he’s the wife?” David pondered and Blaine scowled darkly at him.

“I was eight! I was an idiot. Kurt’s a guy so he isn’t going to be anybody’s wife and just because two people played house or whatever when they were kids, doesn’t mean they’re in love with each other for life or some shit.”

“As a general rule? Absolutely.” Jeff agreed with a small shrug. “For you Blaine: I think you very much are. In love with Kurt that is. Like you being so clearly in love with Kurt was what gave me the courage to come out. Don’t wuss out on me now.”

Blaine opened his mouth to argue some more but his eyes caught on movement in the stands and he glanced up to see Kurt gathering his things.

Oh what was the point really.

“You think my dad will freak?” He asked, voice smaller than he wanted it to be.

It was quiet for a moment, all teasing dying. The one great thing about going to a private school with other wealthy children even if it meant not getting to see Kurt as much as he’d like during the school year was that they got it.

“Maybe…” Wes allowed with a heavy sigh. But then looking squarely at Blaine in that way that reminded him he was his oldest friend and completely had his number, he asked. “Does it matter?”

And the thing was… it really didn’t.

Grinning, Blaine took a swig of his water and tossed the half empty bottle into David’s hands.

“I gotta jet. If my parents call I’m with you.”

He was grinning harder than he had in a while as catcalls and wolf whistles followed his back. He ran to meet Kurt who was waiting patiently at the bottom of the bleachers.

“Hey Blaine,” Kurt greeted brightly as Blaine ran up to him, shifting the strap of his shoulder bag. “Good job today!”

“Thanks. I always run better when I know you’re watching. Maybe you’re good luck.” As far as lines went it sounded good, smooth even, but Blaine had to go and ruin it by turning red again.

Kurt bit back a smile and shrugged.

“Maybe. Not sure if I feel lucky.”

God of course he didn’t! Blaine swallowed.

Shit he was an idiot. He had every girl in the tenth grade throwing themselves at him on a daily basis and he couldn’t even manage a normal conversation with a guy he’d known half his life now.

“How’s your mom?” he asked, lowering his voice. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t a secret that she was sick and nobody who overheard was going to care. But Blaine cared. It was a private thing, a very private pain for Kurt, and Blaine wanted to protect that. He stepped closer as if he to shield the slightly taller boy from prying eyes with his whole body.

“Causing trouble.” Kurt answered with a small little laugh. “You know mom. Dad can’t drag her out of the gardens even though the doctor says she needs to rest more.

“You know. In a way I’m glad she has work… the Gardens, they keep her fighting. It would break her heart if she couldn’t work anymore.”

Kurt trailed off sadly. His mom had been sick for a while and the doctors were doing everything they could… Blaine’s dad had even connected her with some friend of his who was a specialist.

But cancer wasn’t easy to beat, nor did it choose its victims based on who did or didn’t deserve to live.

She wasn’t getting better, and though none of them liked to think it, it was in the back of their minds that there would come a time when his mother <i>couldn’t</I> work anymore. Nora was going to leave them and Kurt and his father would be alone.

Eyes stinging Blaine reached for Kurt’s hand and tangled their fingers together.

Not alone, he decided. Kurt would never be alone.

Kurt started, glancing down at their intertwined fingers in surprise and looking up at Blaine, a question in his eyes.

It was hard to swallow suddenly but Blaine managed it.

“You still don’t have a boyfriend yet right?” he asked, voice shaking only a little bit.

Kurt shook his head, smiling somewhat coyly as he murmured, “Been kind of waiting on someone special.”

“Do you want to go to the movies?” Blaine rushed out, quickly adding, “Like on a date, I mean? It doesn’t have to be to the movies. I could take you to a restaurant if you like. My allowance is still ridiculous so we could do it right. You still like -”

Kurt pressed a finger to his lips to stop Blaine’s babbling and he fell quiet, his embarrassment only soothed by the soft smile Kurt was giving him.

“What about your parents?” he asked gently and Blaine scowled, kicking the dirt with one toe.

“What about them?”

“A picture of us on some trashy magazine is really how you want to come out to them?”

“You’re like my best friend. It’s not like we’ve never eaten out together before. Why should they assume anything?”

Kurt rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, waiting like a patient teacher for the slow pupil to catch up, one eyebrow arched.

“What?” Blaine snapped and he huffed.

“Look Blaine I like you. I like you a lot. You’re my best friend in the world, but I’m not going back in the closet for you.” Kurt wrenched his hand from his to gesture sharply and Blaine felt the loss like someone had ripped a limb from him.

“If you’re serious about being together then you’re going to have to _be_  with me, and that means coming out. If you can’t do that I understand… but I can’t be the one for you.”

Blaine thought Kurt sounded a bit choked up but his eyes were flinty, his jaw set in that stubborn way he knew meant that Kurt wouldn’t be backing down, and when he turned and began quickly to walk away Blaine all but kicked himself.

What the hell was he waiting around for, a neon sign?

“Kurt I don’t know if I’m gay.”

Kurt stopped in his tracks but turned to stare at him incredulously but Blaine knew him well enough to read the vulnerability he was so good at hiding.

“I don’t know, because there’s always been you. I don’t want anyone else… so if that makes me gay then I guess I’m gay. I don’t really care. I just want…” Blaine’s voice cracked, his throat dry. He wet it with a swallow and forged ahead. “I just want you. Okay? If It’s a choice, then I choose you.”

Kurt was striding back to him before Blaine had even finished, and like the kiss they’d shared so long ago in the garden their lips pressed together with purpose only this time it was Kurt who reached for him.

They were older now and certainly bigger, but Kurt was still a freshman and was no more practiced at kissing than Blaine was, so it was still more in line with mashed lips and uncomfortable angles than it was fireworks – but Kurt’s lashes still brushed against his cheeks with earth shattering sweetness and Blaine trembled.

Kurt kissed Blaine that day on the track field, in full view of his teammates and anyone else who happened to take that moment to look in their direction.

Blaine Anderson didn’t care. He knew in that moment that he’d never regret a single thing that had led him to this moment, here in the arms of the boy he loved.

And even if his dad flipped out or it was crazy to ponder something as huge as marriage before they’d even graduated high school, he knew he was going to ask.

They’d figure out college and everything else together. Kurt was already talking about going to school in New York, getting out of Lima City to see the world before he was tied down to a lab and Blaine was trudging through residency somewhere.

Blaine could take a gap year while Kurt finished high school and then they could go to New York together. They could get an apartment…

Well if his dad hadn’t disowned him. He’d get a job in that case. They’d scrape by like everyone else and it wouldn’t matter if they had to share their first home with ten other roommates because they’d be married.

Kurt would be Blaine’s _husband_. God his heart was pounding so hard he could barely think straight.

When he needed to breathe Blaine let his head drop, resting his chin on Kurt’s strong shoulders, nuzzling the soft skin at the juncture where shoulder met neck with a contented sigh.

 

  
~*~ Two Years Later: In Kurt’s 16th year ~*~

 

Working at Lima City Cinema wasn’t exactly Kurt’s ideal summer job, but it wasn’t like the universe cared that much what he’d rather being doing.

He’d rather not be doing a lot of things, including wearing a dumb uniform with a starchy collar (even though he had to admit white didn’t look too bad on him). Thank god his boss had allowed him to spice it up with a few fashion forward accessories.

There was no saving the pants unfortunately. They were shapeless black blocky things and beyond redemption.

His only consolation – that at least his boyfriend wasn’t around to witness him in them – was no real consolation, because if Kurt would rather be doing anything it was definitely Blaine.

Hands down.

Not that he and Blaine had actually done it yet, and not for lack of want. Kurt wasn’t a prude or anything, it was just that teenagers were a lot busier than people ever really gave them credit for. Kurt and Blaine busier than most what with Kurt working part time to help out with the expenses on top of helping at the Gardens, on top of studying his ass off (because he still held out hope of getting into school in New York and he’d need plenty of scholarships to fund those dreams).

And Blaine wasn’t much better. He was probably worse between the recitals and the track meets and the charity galas his parents dragged him to.

Kurt went to the things he could (because otherwise he’d end up penciling in time with his boyfriend every other week like they were some old married couple who barely remembered the meaning of the word romance let alone prioritized it) and neither one had missed a glee concert of his yet, but when you lived at home and were actually close with your parents, opportunities to bone each other were few and far between.

And that was the thing. Call him old fashioned but Kurt didn’t just want to bone his super hot, incredibly sweet, adorable, boyfriend in the back seat of his Audi just because he could. Even if Mercedes was of the opinion that he was crazy for even being able to say that out loud and not change his mind.

Whatever. Like most teens his parents had pulled him aside and given him a frank, if mortifying, talk about his body and his urges and they’d encouraged him to wait until he found the right person whom he trusted to share that experience with, someone who mattered to him and who wouldn’t forget that Kurt mattered too.

Wonderful loving boyfriend: check.

Consent to kiss and touch and pretty much anything else he might want: one hundred percent granted, stamped, and approved.

Right time and place: ... buffering.

He’d hoped that now that it was summer, the moment would come. But with Blaine getting ready for his senior year his dad was putting all sorts of pressure on him to get more involved with the business and travel with him to all these different places where important people from important colleges just happened to be. Blaine was going to break the news to him that he didn't want to go to Harvard or Yale or any place that wasn't in the same city that Kurt was.

They were both pretty sure he was going to flip out, but equally sure he'd eventually come around (hopefully).

“Pocahontas and John Smith,” Mercedes prompted loudly, breaking Kurt out of his moping as she scooped up a king sized popcorn. They’d been playing ‘worst couples we’re supposed to think are romantic’ to pass the time.

“Oh, tell me about it. Are we supposed to forget that in real life he enslaved all her people and gave her small pox?” Kurt drawled in response, reaching under the counter for more paper cups.

“And what was up with the sequel? Where did that other guy even come from?” She asked as she passed their waiting customers their popcorn.

“Enjoy your show.” Kurt finished topping off their drinks and smiled somewhat blandly at the couple before turning back to Mercedes and heaved a dramatic sigh. “How long does it take someone to smooze a bunch of Oxford blowhards?”

“Oh god.” Mercedes groaned. “Don’t start, I don’t think I can handle another session of Blaine withdrawal.”

“I do not have withdrawal.” Kurt replied prissily, because he didn’t. He just thought it was summer and a guy should be able to see his boyfriend more than a few times in a month.

He grabbed the broom they kept propped up against the slushy machine and began sweeping up the layers of spilled popcorn that always seemed to magically appear every ten minutes.

“Relax Kurt, I’m just teasing.” Mercedes giggled, grinning at him smugly. “Besides, I got a feeling your night is gonna perk up.”

Really? He didn’t see why… he narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously but she just smiled at him innocently, turning her back to start refilling the salt shakers.

Yeah. She was definitely up to something.

 

~*~

 

Blaine could not stand still as he and the rest of the guys prepared to board the escalators, his body thrumming with jangling nerves.

“David you parked the car where I told you to right? I swear to god if they tow my car- "

“Yes Stalin,” David interjected with a long roll of his eyes. “I know how to follow basic instructions. Your precious Audi won’t get towed.”

“And you picked up the right flowers? They’ve got to be the right ones David, and don’t tell me you drove with the windows down or slammed them in the door. Kurt will notice if they’re damaged and – ”

“Oh my god Blaine!” Wes groaned, grabbing Blaine by the shoulders and shaking him. “Everything’s set up. Everybody did what you told them to. The Warblers are going to get on this escalator and we’re going to go perform for your boyfriend and knock his pants off – ”

“Preferably not until you guys are long gone in your getaway car though. My virgin eyes.” Nick muttered but Wes ignored him.

“ – and you’re going to ride off with him into the sunset and call me in the morning with all the morally acceptable details because your name is Blaine Anderson and you’ve totally got this!” He gave Blaine one last shake before he turned to Nick and punched him playfully in the shoulder. “And shut up about being a virgin Nick, we all know you boned Jeff when you shared a room at the lake house.”

That was enough to bring even Blaine out of his head long enough to gap at his friends, who were both turning a deep shade of pink.

“Wow. Really? You guys are a thing now?”

“Well now that it’s out there,” Jeff glared at Wes in heated embarrassment and then shrugged. “Yeah I guess so.”

“That’s awesome.” Blaine offered with a sincere smile. “I’m happy for you guys.”

Nick looked hesitantly at Jeff with a hopeful little smile before Jeff reached down to take his hand, embarrassment fading away in the face of their happiness.

The intruding flash of a camera broke up the moment and their heads turned toward where a young mom and her kids were standing, the woman sheepishly lowering her cellphone, caught in the act.

Blaine took a deep breath. If he was going to do this it was now or never.

Straightening his tie Blaine turned back to his friends.

“Ready Warblers?”

 

~*~

 

Kurt didn’t notice it at first, the weird hush in the lobby below. It took him a moment to realize that the strange humming he heard was the sound of human voices raised in song, the sound of which was drifting up from the lobby below.

_I walked across an empty land. I knew the pathway like the back of my hand. I felt the earth beneath my feet. Sat by the river and it made me complete…_

The couple Kurt was serving up a plate of nachos paused, glancing around in confusion, searching for the source of the sound.

“Is somebody singing?” the guy asked, and Kurt turned to ask Mercedes if she knew anything about a performance supposed to be happening that day, but was taken aback by the positively manic grin on her face. She looked about ready to pop with excitement.

What the hell was going on?

_Oh simple thing, where have you gone. I’m getting old and I need something to rely on. So tell me when, you’re going to let me in. I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin._

Kurt’s breath caught in his chest. He knew those voices, that one particular voice soaring out above the others.

_I came across a fallen tree. I felt the branches of it looking at me. Is this the place we used to love? Is this the place that I’ve been dreaming of?_

Kurt couldn’t move, could hardly breathe as those voices drew closer and closer. It was like time had slowed down as Blaine and the rest of the Warblers appeared at the top of the escalator, a small crowd of spectators bunched behind them, craning their necks to see or snap pictures with their phones.

“Oh my god…” Kurt was vaguely aware of Mercedes gripping his arm and pulling him out from behind the counter, of his heats heating with embarrassment and a brief moment of being too conscious of the dozens of eyes on him, but then Blaine was walking toward him and Kurt couldn’t see anything else.

In the back of his mind he was aware of Wes and the other warblers, of spinning bodies and the cascade of flower petals in the air – because Blaine was such a dork like that – but Blaine was right there, real and whole and so beautiful in his sharp navy uniform it hurt to look at him, and he was  _nervous_.

Blaine was confident and charming, a real natural born leader and Kurt had been to many of his performances and never once seen him so scared. It wasn’t something you might notice if you didn’t know what to look for, but Kurt did. He heard it in the tiny shake Blaine's voice gave, just a slip on an odd note, quickly covered as his voice soared higher as he moved along with the choreography.

More certainly, Kurt saw it in his eyes. Their naked hope as the song winded down and he reached for Kurt’s hands, asking for the world.

_And if you have a minute why don’t we go, talk about it somewhere only we know. This could be the end of everything… So why don’t we go. So why don’t we go…_

It was silly of him to be so scared. Didn’t he know Kurt would go with him anywhere?

Heart swelling full with love Kurt smiled through his tears and laid his hand in Blaine’s.

  
~*~

 

Blaine tugged Kurt toward the escalator, heart pumping wildly as they began to run through the cheering crowd, the sound of their friend’s voices ringing out the last few bars of the song, Kurt’s hand gripped tightly in his.

_This could be the end of everything… So why don’t we go. Somewhere only we know._

“Come on. We’re going up to the lake.” Blaine hurried them through the lobby, palming the keys in his pocket just to be sure he had them. His dad had given him the keys to lake house on pain of death if he lost them.

“Up to the lake house?” Kurt’s brow furrowed. “But Blaine my parents – ”

“They already know.”

And god. That had been embarrassing. Blaine never wanted to repeat the conversation he’d had with Burt and Nora again in this lifetime (but he might have to, if he really went back for that ring he’d seen at Tiffanys).

Thankfully Nora seemed to think they were old enough to handle a night on their own so long as Blaine’s parents really were going to join them the next day and they wouldn’t be spending the entire weekend alone.

Not that it mattered. None of their parents were stupid, and yeah it was weird knowing that they had to know what Blaine wanted, what he hoped they both wanted, but it was sort of nice being trusted and taken seriously.

They ran out to the car, ready just as David had promised and stuffed almost full with bushels and bushels of stunning blue flowers. Blaine laughed, all nerves melting away as Kurt gasped in delight at the sight of them.

"I forgot you not," Blaine teased as he opened the door for Kurt and Kurt made a disgusted face at the lame joke.

And as Blaine ran around to the drivers side and got in the car there was the brief flicker of a shadow in his mind, the oddest sense of whispered foreboding.

Something, or someone, was coming.

The feeling passed as quickly as it had come and it would never return to plague him again.

Because it didn’t matter.

The world could come to a screeching fiery end today tomorrow, or twenty years from that point and Blaine Anderson would not be afraid.

He’d met the kindest, funniest, most wonderful person he’d ever know… the guy he’d been waiting for his whole life and who he’d be waiting for in this life and every life to follow.

And for however long they had, Blaine was never letting him go.

 

-Fin-


End file.
